


Song to say goodbye

by tenderisthedawn



Category: The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Angst, Antwerp, Boris is soft and angsty, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles, Theo POV, goldfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 19:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20801489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenderisthedawn/pseuds/tenderisthedawn
Summary: "No, you can stay Potter, I'd use some company!" he scarcely whispered, closing his eyes and holding onto the pillow.And I saw myself in him, going back to those nights...





	Song to say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to write Boris being lowkey(highkey) soft wanting to sleep with theo. bye and sorry

I had noticed Boris's presence too late to think of a less intricate reaction, 3 in the morning in the cold, old and only room at Boris' apartment. I was laying in bed, arms throw over the pillow, laying on one side, facing the gray curtains that could barely be distinguished at this time of the night.

Boris' weight made an appearance seconds after I turned around to face said curtains, the bed made a sound "This is an old apartment" Boris had said while we drove to his place. And it was indeed, old-looking walls, a tiny place that held a strong, nauseous odor, old boxes, and liquor. I did not care, I had spent years of my life living in such a place, Las Vegas to be precise, with Boris. In some strange way, being in his apartment in Antwerp brought some memories back, I just had to close my eyes for a second to remember that past. Everything that happened in my room, our room. By the pool, with wet fingers, wrinkled fingers and blue lips, Boris's profile made of soft lines, illuminated by the moon.

"Potter" was Boris' husky voice that brought me back to the present, to Antwerp, the gray room.

I turned around to face him, it was useless to pretend I was asleep when all Boris ever did was see through me. And I saw through him. That's how things were between us.

"Hmm" I replied, seeing him in front of me, purposely close, eyes framed by thick eyebrows and deep eye bags. The same Boris that showed me new things, good and bad. Dark eyes, always fixed in a void and me.

He moved a little further, I guess he saw how close both our faces were. Then he spoke.

"I can't sleep"  
his dry voice talking, and I waited for his laugh or some movement, announcing it was all a joke and then he would get up al leave, maybe to sleep on the couch. But he didn't. And I asked myself If seeing Boris show weakness after so many years of living in a fearless body was some kind of privilege I possessed. I wondered too, what should I do, how could I answer that.

"Well, I can take the couch and you have the bed"  
I knew well inside me that it wasn't what we wanted at all.  
We had spent years sharing a single bed, Las Vegas, hot and sticky weather, our arms around each other. I wanted to go back.  
I wanted to feel the same comfort I felt at 15.

"No, you can stay Potter, I'd use some company!" he scarcely whispered, closing his eyes and holding onto the pillow.

And I saw myself in him, going back to those nights where I couldn't sleep at all, and my eyes were all red, and the only thing that made me feel at ease was Boris's presence and his polish songs, his arms around my body.  
But we were children, so young and motherless, desperately looking for love in the wrong places.

So I did the only thing that crossed my mind, I close the space between us and I held him tight, my arms around his body (he was tiny in my embrace) and for a second I was scared he would turn around and despise me, but he didn't. He was still breathing fine, his eyes closed and I pulled him closer, whispering  
"shh It's okay".

I was trying to bring him the comfort he once gave me, I was being a good friend but I also knew well enough that this was more than a friendly gesture. I wanted to convey my feelings by hugging him and never let go. And it was overwhelming for a second when I thought this was one sided. Hugging him to sleep, then Oh I felt his hands reaching and holding onto my back, returning the hug and holding in place.

"Don't leave Potter" his words, for once...honest and tenderly made my legs weak. Don't leave... let's leave together that's what I said years ago and he did not follow...so I was afraid. Now he needed me the way I needed him. Don't want to let go off me and I didn't want that either.  
But I couldn't change a thing, my heart will somehow always belong to New York, and in a way, Boris knew it, that's why his words were desperate, in the dark of the night, more to himself than the words were for me.  
So I did the only thing I could do, and that was, of course, hold him tight, and promise, with vague words that we will be reunited again.

**Author's Note:**

> My english is...pretty lame so sorry for that.  
twt: @boreloveclub  
tumblr: poeticboreo


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